Real Enough for Kurt
by spanishshipper
Summary: AU. Karofsky's suicide attempt did not succeed, but it left him in a coma. Kurt's subconscious processes his grief in a different sort of way.


It was six fifty seven, and Kurt and Blaine were leaving Breadstix when he got the call. _Karofsky tried to kill himself. _

Kurt let go of Blaine's hand to cover his mouth, dressed in his cutest outfit, having wanted to remind Blaine what a catch he was. That did not matter now, however. Karofsky had tried to kill himself and there was nothing happy at all in Kurt's brain. And then an inkling of light shone through, _tried! He did not succeed._

Kurt drove his boyfriend home, and drove right to the hospital, crying silent tears as he focuses on the road. There was no need for this just yet, he told himself. He could still be okay.

He wasn't.

The two minutes hanging had deprived Karofsky's brain of oxygen, and broken an essential vertebra. If Karofsky woke up, he would be paralyzed from the waist down, unable to play football or dance ever again. If he woke up. That phrase did nothing but pedal its way around the track of Kurt's mind. The doctors had been very honest with him, as he held Karofsky's warm hand and watched the machines pump air in and out of that broad chest. Karofsky had done enough damage to himself that he probably would not wake up. If he did, he would most-likely be mentally disabled for the rest of his life. There was always a chance that things could turn around, but Kurt would not let himself be optimistic. It would hurt too much if things did not get better.

There was nothing happy in his thoughts, and to chase them away, he spent a full week out of school, passing time by Dave's bedside. He had been spending so much time in the presence of the poor boy's family that he was Dave now. He would spend every day at the base of Dave's bed, most often knitting as he told the patient everything about him. His favorite color, his dreams as a child, and how they had changed now; the color of the sky that day, what Rachel had done to piss Finn off this time, and how Azimio was holding up. Azimio had only visited on the first day, and had not been back since.

Kurt spent the first three nights at the hospital, only leaving when they needed to give Dave his sponge bath, and only rushing home to sweet-spot shower, brush his teeth, and change clothes. His once fabulous wardrobe had been reduced to little more than a v-neck, a pair of Finn's basketball shorts, and Dave's varsity jacket. The family had given it to him on the first day, after he collapsed into tears on the floor next to the hospital bed. Every day since then, he had worn the varsity jacket everywhere, growing to love the smell of Dave Karofsky around him. It kept the idea—that Dave Karofsky would be okay—in his mind, and while he did not want to believe it, nor could he afford the heartbreak, he still allowed it to set up camp in his head. He was a fool. But he was worried.

Nothing changed for twenty eight days, and then the dreams started.

At first they were easy, simple. They always hurt but Dave was always alive. It was like Kurt began courting Dave's spirit, because at first, the dreams started angry. Karofsky was always angry at Kurt for showing so much affection, not keeping him in the closet. As they continued, there was forgiveness, happiness, and they began to move forward.

The first time they kissed was in a dream. Dave and Kurt had gone for a walk around town, really just through whatever shop Kurt's subconscious could come up with. They had giggling conversations, and Kurt bought Dave a very large but very cute pink v-neck, and Dave bought Kurt a matching pink hairband, complete with glitter for his 'Fancy'. He placed it upon the smaller boy's head, and then one of his hands gently slid into the back of Kurt's hair. The other slid down to touch his jaw, tilting it upwards as their eyes searched each other's for an okay. It was given, and their lips met.

Blaine and Kurt broke up the next day.

Now it was forty days since he had received the call and Kurt was single, alone, and had taken a personal leave from school. The Karofsky family bussed him to and from the hospital, and gave him a cot to sleep on next to Dave's bed. Kurt did nothing but sleep when he was with Dave. It was the only way he felt free from the impossibly heavy elephant in the room—that Dave really was not with him, and that it was his own imagination putting this wonderfully perfect relationship into his head.

On the forty fifth day, they held hands as they walked through the halls of McKinley. That was a beautiful moment, only to be ruined when Rosa and Isabel Karofsky came screaming into their brother's hospital bed, excited to tell him about the events of school that day. Being woken up suddenly was the worst—one moment he would be holding Dave's hand, and then in the next moment, Dave would fall away from him screaming. He jolted awake, only to feel a warm little hand touch his face. Alexander was four, and the youngest of the Karofsky family. Kurt's cot was barely off the floor, so the five year old's hand could reach his teary face.

"Don't be sad, Kurt. Davey is okay."

Kurt just lifted Alex up, started bouncing him on his knee, and asked him about his day. He hid his pain away until later.

On the fifty second day, Dave pushed Kurt against a wall, and caught him in such a kiss that Kurt literally was clinging to him.

On the fifty seventh day, they began to make out with more force, teeth and tongue and lips clashing as they fought for power. Dave won.

On the sixty first day, Dave began to grind into the kisses they were exchanging. Kurt woke up with an equal desire to masturbate and sob. He did both.

A week passed.

Two.

Three.

On the eighty second day, Kurt cried himself to sleep in his own bed. Burt had insisted he begin sleeping in the house just one night a week, considering the fact that three months of being in the hospital day in and day out were having a negative effect on his son. Burt was trying to help. He had no idea that it was hurting Kurt to leave Dave, because then the dreams did not come, and Kurt felt lonely. That did not matter now. He had not dreamed since the crying masturbation incident.

The eighty second night after Dave Karofsky's attempted suicide, Kurt cried himself to sleep, and woke up in Dave's arms. He knew it was not real, but that was okay, because the arms wrapped around him smelled like that varsity jacket he uses as a blanket at the hospital. There was nothing unhappy in this exchange, the thick and muscly body of Dave making Kurt feel small but _safe. _Kurt could feel Dave smile against his ear, and then his lips encompassed Kurt's earlobe and a moan escaped the feminine.

Dave shifted, gently sliding his body over top Kurt's, murmuring Kurt's name as he kissed and licked along his jaw and down his neck. Kurt's body arched into him as he moaned, his hips slowly grinding into Dave's leg. Dave smiled against his skin once more, and leaned up to kiss Kurt, his fingers slowly unbuttoning every article of clothing, and slowly maneuvering it off of his lover. Dave was being slow, but Kurt could feel the sexual desire rolling off of him in waves of heat and sexiness. Kurt slid his fingers down Dave's stomach, growling under his breath as he feels the trail of dark hair that led to Dave's penis. Fuck.

The first touch of anyone's penis is special—it is unexpected and sometimes hands are too cold or too warm but Kurt's were perfect for Dave's and Dave pulled out of the kiss to gasp. Fuck.

Dave touched Kurt back, and Kurt's back arched, causing Dave to thrust a tiny bit into Kurt's hand. There was nothing right now more important than reaching a level of arousal higher than ever before. An orgasm would be reached if it was the last thing ever done.

The two boys went at each other, nails scraping, teeth nibbling, constant moans filling the air before two wet fingers pressed into Kurt. That made him give up, his body writhing beneath the touch of the jock above him. He moans loudly, and then practically screams when a third is added and the prodding begins. Those fingers scissored open and explored within him and found a spot that rendered him incomprehensible, Dave's name lost in moans and shudders.

The loss of the fingers brought in a thicker, warmer item, and Kurt knew without looking down that Dave Karofsky was lining up to take him entirely. Kurt lifts his legs, spreading himself and then leaning up and catching his lips in a deep and distractingly passionate kiss.

There was nothing Kurt had ever wanted more.

Dave pressed into him, his moans echoing in Kurt's mouth as he fills Kurt completely. It was a dream—everything felt good and nothing hurt. He shudders, moaning as Dave slowly begins to thrust, Kurt's erection rubbing against his hairy stomach.

Kurt begged for harder thrusts, and moans at the top of his lungs as he is rewarded. That spot within him is hit and he whimpers, Dave specifically realigning so that he hit that spot again. And again. And again.

Kurt was in heaven, moaning and shuddering as Dave's head dives down, licking and biting and kissing his neck. On a particularly deep thrust and a scratchy bite to his earlobe, Kurt lost control, his nails digging into the back of the man on top of him. His seed spilled over both their bellies, and his body shuddered with the force.

Dave came then as well, filling Kurt with the warm wetness of his come, the both of them moaning and then sharing a tired open-mouth kiss. Delicious.

Kurt opened his eyes.

He got in his car, drove to the hospital, and spent the night there.

Kurt found happiness in his dreams.

Dave never woke up.

**A/N I hope it doesn't hurt too much. Thank you so much for reading!**


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